Monday, June 29, 2009

Standing at the roulette table in Vegas this weekend I met a real character. He shook his head and yelled out "No Luck!" in a delightful Italian accent every time he hit, even while raking in thousands. When he didn't hit he would look at the number and say "I knew it! I knew 4 was going to come up!!!". After a bit he turned to me and:

Italian dude: "I like you. I'm going to give you a job."
Hanna: "Oh really? And what job is that?"
ID: "You are going to be my good luck charm. I will fly you out here and put you up in a suite. You can do whatever you like, eat, shop, sit by the pool. No strings."
Hanna: "Sounds like a great opportunity! When do I start?"

So now I am trying to figure out how to fit this in with my day job. Any suggestions?

Friday, June 26, 2009

e⋅piph⋅a⋅ny:

A sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, unassuming, or commonplace occurrence or experience such as falling off a bus, landing in a ditch and showing your ass to all the passengers of said bus.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Early in my friendship with davis and the gang he and A- were having movie night in their backyard. I showed up with my friend Jack Daniels and proceeded to drink into the wee hours, even after the mutual friend M- that had introduced us was long gone. M- always knows exactly when to go home.

I fell asleep on their couch, and davis and Boots woke me up and said they figured I wouldn't be very happy to find myself there in the morning so they would walk me home.

The next morning standing in the neighborhood deli getting multiple beverages to go with my tasty breakfast sandwich I got an email from M-, a funny joke about why drinking beer is a better investment than purchasing stock on my iPhone. I replied "I got a piggy back ride home last night!" The moment I hit send I realized two things 1) I was not yet hungover because I was still drunk and 2) I had just hit reply to all and shared this little tid-bit, which must have sounded way more sordid than it actually was, with her numerous friends and colleagues.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Not long ago I was mistaken for a dancer. I don't mean a back-up dancer for a pop-idol like Britney Spears or Beyoncé, I mean an exotic dancer. Though I can't plead complete innocence, this falls into the category of getting myself into a screwed up situation for completely altruistic reasons. This time it was minding a friend. By minding, I mean tending to, though in this case it also means obeying.

Friend turned up at the wrong time in the wrong place. Let's say he was the Bishop and showed up in his skivvies while mass was in full swing. He needed to be steered out of there and for some reason the task fell to me. To distract him from "church" I spent the evening driving him anywhere he asked, because I've learned that is the easiest way to handle people that are incorrigible and powerful: do whatever they say and they won't hold it against you. This strategy brought us to a strip club. Not just any strip club though, one that looks like it is on the first floor of a residential house and inside appears like someone's dirty basement hangout. They serve food that comes in microwaveable containers by that famous chef... Boyardee. Let's just say it was not my scene, but there wasn't much I felt I could do at the time except sit and watch the show.

There was an older dude sitting a few stools over from me at the bar. He appeared to be pushing 85 actually, and obviously spent alot of his evenings at this dive, since every topless woman there knew him by name. The Bishop tells me "go talk to him, it will make his night". It took him a few minutes to convince me, but I agreed. Mostly because I was bored out of my skull, and had come to a sort of "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em attitude."

I stink at flirting but sidled over to him and said "Hi, what's your name?" He replied "Charlie" and then the following conversation ensued:
Hanna: "What do you do for a living Charlie?"
Charlie: "Oh, I don't do anything now. I used to be a milkman, but I retired"

Now I am thinking geez, he IS really old, we don't have those any more. Something about his manner of speaking indicated Charlie wasn't the brightest bulb in the box.

Hanna: "Oh, that is nice!"
Hey, I said I stink at this
Charlie: "Are you a dancer?"
Hanna: "No Charlie"
Charlie: "Did you ever want to be a dancer?"
Hanna: "No Charlie"
Long silence and then
Charlie: "Did you ever think about being a dancer?"
Hanna: "Hmm...not really, but maybe I should"

Meanwhile, the working women are getting a bit peeved. I am obviously horning in on one of their best clients. We are quiet for a while and my phone rings. Yep, it's my Dad. Obviously I don't answer but it does give me a few minutes to think for the nth time "What the hell am I doing here!?"

Then Charlie starts again, pointing over to my friend who is chatting up the ladies, showering them with 20s and close to getting us thrown out by the bartender who clearly feels a mixture of loathing and fascination with the guy. She is hesitating because most of the clients are showering $1s, not $20s.

Charlie: "You are here with him, aren't you?"
Hanna: "Yes, I came with him."
Charlie: "You are leaving with him, aren't you?"
Now at this point I am beyond annoyed with the whole scene, but since we came in his car, I didn't feel good about driving away and leaving him there.
Hanna: "I'm not so sure about that, Charlie"
Charlie: "How much do you get for a donation?"

I'd never heard that term used in this way before, but I knew exactly what he meant. I said nothing for at least two minutes. I didn't know what to say, sitting there in my good church clothes looking like anything but a call girl. Then I grabbed a cigarette from my friend's pack and lit it. I don't smoke. I took a few puffs, thought for a few more minutes then pointed over at The Bishop and said "He gives me a grand." Charlie audibly sucks in his breath and in a suddenly high pitched voice says "uh, uh, uh, A THOUSAND DOLLARS?" and I said "Yep Charlie" He replies "He must have a very good job!"

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Occassionally I hear the most fascinating rumors. About myself. I won't deny that I have a propensity to get into some rather interesting positions. There are plenty of opportunities to do so and I don't always shy away even when I know it would be prudent. But the stories that are the most entertaining are the ones that are either completely untrue, or contorted so well as to be barely recognizable. For instance, I recently learned that I was dating a woman a few years ago. Over two years after bringing a friend from out of town to a party with me, I heard this particular rumor and I apparently was one of the few that didn't know. I giggled when I heard. It was quite flattering because though I am not actually into women, this particular friend is gorgeous, intelligent and loads of fun. It's a compliment that anyone would expect me to have a girlfriend that great!

It is not a surprise that moving completely unknown to a small town coupled with being thirty+x, female and never married makes one a good candidate for gossip and speculation. And as I mentioned above I am more than capable of becoming involved in situations that others might consider out of the ordinary, even if I generally arrive there through rather innocent and well-intentioned means. So after some reflection I have decided to embrace it all- truth, conjecture, misunderstanding, complete fallacy and everything in between.

I will share my rumors, adventures, stories, and tall tales with you. You can try to sort the fact from the fiction. If it even matters.

Need Advice about Rumors?

I'm no expert, but I have successfully survived dealing with a number of difficult situations on the rumors front, both at work and in personal situations. If you want to hear what I have to say about your situation, email me at rumorsaboutme@gmail.com. Please indicate if you want to keep your issue private, or if you would like it shared on the website.